Survival Instinct
by Supersaiyaninfinitygohan
Summary: When Planet Vegeta was destroyed, it took with it one of the greatest races of warriors known to the galaxy, leaving but a handful to make it on their own. But what of the Saiyans that did not make it to Earth? Hunted, tortured and near the brink of extinction, what is there left for them but their survival and their instincts?
1. Luck of the Draw

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball GT. All rights go to their respected owners. All rights for music suggested goes to their respected owners.**

**Claimer: I own this story and all original characters.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Luck of the Draw**

**[BGM (background music): Ginyu Transformation Remix by Enigma TNG]**

Like breath to a candle, Planet Vegeta slowly disintegrated silently in the vast void of space. There were screams of surprise, rage and some even of fear. Be it male, female, warrior, politician or infant, it mattered not. Their voices could not be heard over the destruction of their home planet.

Finally Frieza's gigantic auburn Death Ball struck the planet's core, sealing its fate. The celestial body collapsed inwards upon itself, taking with it every Saiyan on the planet, each giving their last dying breath of anger towards the betrayal of their overlord before perishing as their bodies were either vaporized from the heat on the surface or crushed from the sudden change in pressure that resulted from going into space so suddenly if they were flying in the high atmosphere. Those of course were the lucky ones, as the Saiyans between the two extremes slowly suffered from both being burnt alive and having their air was slowly taken away from them, clutching at their throats as the smog slowly became too much for them.

It was all music to his ears.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Look! Zarbon! Dodoria! Isn't it spectacular! If nothing else, those monkeys at least made good fireworks!" Frieza declared, cheering on the destruction like a fan at a football game, his eyes wide with madness and his hands gripping the sides of his hover-chair as he leaned forward, trying to laugh in the faces of the Saiyans' spirits.

Down below the two aforementioned lackeys looked on with flabbergasted expressions through round windows as the explosion's light seemed to grow brighter every moment before the energy seemed to retract into a gigantic, T-shaped mass of energy and then glint away, leaving only rubble and stories of the Saiyan home world behind, the rest completely annihilated.

The two hit men were not surprised by their master's actions, heck they wished they'd done it themselves! No, instead they were amazed at Frieza's sheer power and lack of caring. Not only had he destroyed an entire planet in a matter of seconds, his own men had been caught in the path of the attack. Frieza hadn't so much as batted an eye.

While this kind of attitude was to be expected from the tyrant, one never truly got used to it, despite what some may say.

**[Change BGM: Bleach OST Whisper of the Apocalypse]**

Frieza was said to make demon themselves turn their heads in horror and make a bugs skin crawl in disgust, and one could see why. This was no mere villain, he was the living incarnation of all things vile and despicable in the universe. And acting as such, Frieza quickly got over his genocide and ordered his hover-chair back down into his personal quarters, snickering all the way down as a green, crocodile-like minion stood at the ready, shaking in fear, a glass and wine bottle on a tray before him.

The menace waved his hand with a bored gesture, signalling the cowering waitron to pour him a glass. "I always do find a quick slaughtering of the masses enjoyable in the mornings, wouldn't you say Zarbon?" the tyrant questioned with a content smile as he was handed his victory drink, slowly stirring the red liquid inside the glass with one hand in a slow, non-caring motion.

"Of course sire. And what a fantastic show if I do say so myself," the blue pretty boy smiled, always trying to please his master and hope that his own head wouldn't be next on the chopping block.

"And Dodoria," Frieza started, the pink brute of a man now standing at attention. "Don't think I've forgotten about your little mistake of 'dealing' with that Saiyan. Bardock I believe his name was?" The tub of lard began to sweat bullets as Frieza's hover-chair turned around to face him, the tyrant's finger tapping on his wine glass, each tap seeming to signify a soon approaching Death Beam to the heart.

"Pl-please, Lord Frieza! I don't know how he got passed me! I swear it won't happen again!" the oaf blubbered, struggling to hold his bladder as the frost demon stared him down.

"Oh relax Dodoria," Frieza spoke with what seemed to be a genuine smile one might see on the face of a fellow employee. "You're lucky that since I'm in such a good mood, I've decided to take you up on your promise. But only because you asked me so nicely!" On the last statement the tyrant even pointed his finger at the man and changed his tone to a friendlier one.

The message was clear: mess up again and I'll have your head on a plate.

"Thank you sir," Dodoria said with a sigh of relief, wiping some sweat from his forehead as his master once again turned his back to his men.

"Now then," Frieza said, putting his head in hand, entering a lax position. "What to do about the rest?"

Both Zarbon and Dodoria glanced at each other confused for a few moments before turning their focus to their master once more. "The uh… rest sir?" Dodoria questioned, having mustered up some courage once more, earning a sigh from Frieza.

"The Saiyans off planet you dolt," Frieza answered in a tired tone. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I keep someone with an IQ lower than bag of bricks around. Zarbon, check and see how many monkeys are left."

Complying with the order, the commander moved towards the nearest computer terminal and began to type away, a few seconds passing before the desired information revealed itself to him. "It appears as though there are currently 526 Saiyans off planet, 529 if we count Raditz, Vegeta and Nappa who are currently on one of our fleet ships," the commander informed his superior with a neutral tone, the tyrant once again twisting his glass as he thought, taking a sip before answering.

"So little to have fun with. I wonder why so many were there today…" Frieza said offhandedly, Zarbon quickly replying.

"It appears that King Vegeta had called in all his advisors and servants to decide the fate of an infant named Broly suspected of treasonous actions."

"An infant? What was the sentence?" the frost demon questioned, his interest slightly peaked.

"Death sire." The answer sent Frieza into a series of small chuckles.

"And they call me evil. Those Saiyans are downright barbaric." The Acrosian smiled once more before getting back to the matter at hand. "Hmm… those last three Saiyans you mentioned interest me, especially Vegeta. Send them all to Frieza Planet 419 and inform them that Planet Vegeta has unfortunately been obliterated by an asteroid storm. Send them my regards of course."

"Of course sire," the green minion replied, wishing to be out of the room as soon as possible and gave a small bow. When no one stopped him, the creature left his superiors to their planning.

When the door had finally been closed on his way out, Dodoria spoke up. "What about the others Lord Frieza? You're not gonna keep 'em all around are you?" Frieza did not reply but merely pushed a button on the arm of his chair that connected it to the fleet captain's intercom.

"Captain, I want you to set up a ring of ships around this rubble so as to deal with any returning stragglers. Also, I want you to give a few orders to the empire's Communications Director. Tell him to deactivate all Saiyan scouters, oh and that he is to expect a little call from me soon." The tyrant released his hold of the button on his chair and awaited a response.

"At once Lord Frieza!" an old, gravelly voice replied, pleasing the tyrant.

"To answer your question Dodoria: no I will not be keeping those Saiyans around. That does not however mean I won't be having some fun with them." Once more that day Frieza grinned, but this time not with the grin of a sadist, but with the grin of the Grim Reaper.

**[Stop BGM]**

* * *

Planet Green had once kept up its namesake rather well. Of course that ended only a short few hours ago when both the planet's foliage and inhabitants had been decimated to the brink of practical extinction, the few surviving beings currently in slave carts, sullenly awaiting transportation.

Not too far away from a cart however, one of their conquerors was not exactly a happy fighter. In fact, you could say she was quite the opposite of that.

"Stupid piece of junk!" Amaranth declared as she repeatedly tapped the side of her green scouter, having tried to reach Tora then Fasha, both failing to answer. Hell, she'd even call that jerk Bardock at this stage!

"Oh forget it!" the female declared, plucking the device off her ear and tossing it into the distance where it clattered a few times before she sighed once more, running a hand through her long, spiky black hair that ended in a ponytail at the back. Amaranth was one of the more humanoid-looking Saiyans, being slightly shorter and less bulky than her comrades and being quite a bit more curved. One could even describe her as attractive, even in padded armor.

Of course she would see that as a come-on and deck you in the face.

Her body structure by no means made her any less powerful, boasting a power level of six thousand units. That however did not stop her from getting stuck with babysitting.

Being of the age of eighteen, she was still restricted to listening to her Saiyan elders' orders until she could give them a good what for. Or at least so the Saiyan code decreed. This was one of the laws she currently had a problem with.

Suddenly her eyes caught something green glint off the surface of the planet. Her partner's scouter! The poor purple fool had been a last minute addition to her mission; supposedly finishing training that day and this was a final exam of sorts. Didn't last five seconds, just as she had predicted.

Holding onto some hope, the female bent down and grabbed the device, cracking a smile when she heard some static crackle from it. Tuning in to Tora and Fasha's frequencies at the same time, Amaranth's expression changed to one of anger and annoyance again as she yelled, "Alright you two, I've had enough of this babysitting! These two twerps are getting on my last nerve and so help me if you don't come pick them up right now, I'll send them back to you in coffins!" the woman declared, receiving no answer. "Hello?! I know you're there!"

Amaranth's yelling was suddenly interrupted by a recognizable chime that indicated a public service announcement. These didn't come often and when they did they usually meant either trouble or something big, and that something big usually lead to trouble, so she figured she might as well listen in on it as all communications were cut off until it was over.

"_Attention all residents of the North, South, East, West and Central Galaxy,"_ a male, tinny voice began as Amaranth raised an eyebrow.

'All five galaxies? Somebody must've messed up big this time,' the warrior thought as the voice continued.

"_A bounty has been put out on any creatures of an origin known as 'Saiyan'. They are creatures of a warrior race who stand at an average height of six feet and three inches for males and five feet and ten inches for females. Saiyans are large and bulky with key features being their brown or black hair, caucasian skin and most noticeable their monkey-like tails. It is suggested to avoid confronting them during the nighttime, especially on full moons. The bounty is set at eleven million credits for proof of a dead Saiyan and one-hundred and twenty million credits for a live Saiyan brought in. Further information will be provided at a later date. That is all for now. All hail Lord Frieza."_ The transmission finally cut off.

Amaranth stood with her mouth agape in shock, continuing to listen to the scouter in hopes that this was some sort of joke. When no more communications came, she removed her hand from the scouter and slowly her mind cleared.

This was a setback unlike any other, no doubt, but she was a warrior and her mind was in a state of constant alert and readiness. Amaranth merely needed some time to think this through.

There was a good chance that they had gotten rid of the strongest warriors before sending this message out, meaning that the 'trainee' sent with her was actually an assassin of some sort, that had met with some bad luck, and that Tora and Fasha were most likely...

"…dead," Amaranth finished her thought out loud, not believing that things had turned so sour so quickly. Sure, business with Frieza had been bad at times, but never to the point where anyone thought the tyrant would go and do something like this! Where did this leave her race, herself, the kids she was taking care of?

The brats! Having almost forgotten about them, the female slapped herself on the forehead. Steeling herself, the Amaranth attuned herself to the faint sound of wrestling in the dirt before walking over to a small trench in the ground to see her charges rolling and rocking in the dirt, yelling curses at each other and punching and kicking anything that moved.

"Cress! Kale! You too sorry excuses for fighters better cut that out before I make you!" when her voice went unheard, the female proceeded to grab the duo by their heads, pull them up, rip them apart and bash their skulls together before dropping them to the ground like two stones.

"Now that I have your attention," Amaranth began with a glare as the boys rubbed their heads with hisses of pain. "I have some bad news."


	2. The Price of Freedom

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball GT. I do not own any music suggested. All rights go to their respected owners.**

**Claimer: I own this plot and all original characters.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**The Price of Freedom**

Anger. Rage. Pure, unbridled hate. These were the only emotions Paragus could feel at that time. His home, his allies, his people all gone. Now only he and his son remained inside this small, cramped bubble of energy. A bubble of energy that for all he knew could pop at any moment, exposing Paragus and his son to the elements of outer space. This was all Frieza's fault! Nothing remained of his old life now. And he had been so close to getting away with it!

The man had secretly informed a few close allies of his that if the talks with King Vegeta did indeed go south, that they should come to his aid so that he and his son could escape. Escape they did, but his friends were no doubt dead. All because of that darned lizard!

Paragus prayed to the powers that be, if any existed for all he knew, that if he escaped with his life, they would allow his son to grow strong enough to fulfill the legends of old, and become powerful enough to smite Frieza ten times over for all that he had done!

Ceasing his inward monologue, the Saiyan spied one of Frieza's vessels… and then another and then another! Ships were all around him, numbering in the twenties! He and Broly must have been deep in the frost demon's territory to have come across a fleet of this size. Fortunately their small transport was not made of anything their sensors could pick up and any scouters that picked up a power level of ten thousand **outside** the ship would most likely be written off as malfunctioning hardware. The same could be said for anyone who said they saw a floating space bubble with a man and baby inside

Focusing once more on trying to find a way to steer the vessel he was in, Paragus tried to think of a good place to land the bubble. The Southern Galaxy was out of Frieza's reach and while still mostly under control of the Planet Trade Organization, there were a few spots for bandits hidden away from its ruler's eye. Now all he needed to do was-

"Prince Vegeta?" the man questioned as he spied the unmistakable shape of the royal haircut out of the porthole of a larger ship. With no doubt King Vegeta died on the planet, and this being he saw was too short to possibly be the king. The question he pondered was why the brat was still alive. With the extinction of the Saiyan race, how could they miss one they had in their very clutches?

The prince didn't even look like he was bothered to be there! That meant… that meant…

"He was in on it… he worked with Frieza…" Paragus said aloud, reaching a conclusion rather abruptly. Thoughts of confusion and shock quickly turned to rage. "No, it wasn't Frieza's fault. It was his! One day… one day I'll get my hands on that brat, and then he'll pay! Him and everyone else in this entire blasted universe!" Looking at his son once more, Paragus saw no longer his offspring that he loved and cared for, but rather a tool. A means to an end. And that end was a very bloody and painful revenge.

The father and son drifted off into space slowly, a future now set in stone for them.

* * *

The room was pitch black but Vegeta could tell that the bodies of Saibamen were still littered around him, all fifty three of them. The young prince munched on his small, yellow ration in silence, hoping he could soon return home and perhaps receive a better challenge from a fellow Saiyan. Vegeta soon found his meal disturbed however, his green scouter suddenly activating as the unfamiliar voice of a soldier he did not know spoke to him.

"Prince Vegeta, I have some terrible news," the soldier started, his tone formal when addressing Vegeta, as the boy thought it should be.

"What is it?" the boy responded in a huff, not enjoying being bothered when eating.

"It seems as though Planet Vegeta was struck by an asteroid storm and has been destroyed. Lord Frieza sends his sympathies and his regrets," the soldier replied, his tone remaining neutral the whole way through.

"Is that so?" Vegeta questioned, seemingly not affected by the news.

"Yes sir. At this time you appear to be the only survivor… Do you wish to send a reply sir?"

"No, no reply," the boy responded with a harsh tone, the man on the other end now getting the message.

"Understood sir. Over and out." And like that, Vegeta was left all alone once more… completely and utterly alone.

For what seemed like an eternity, Vegeta simply sat there in his squatted position, not even thinking. Just surrounded by darkness. Suddenly, he felt his hand start to shake. Then his foot shivered slightly. Soon his entire body was trembling all over as a wave of emotions hit the prince. A single tear falling down his cheek allowed the prince to catch himself.

'I can't be weak… _he_ could be watching,' Vegeta thought as he quickly wiped away the tear and stopped his shaking, trying to push the emotions away or at least hold them back. 'If they see weakness, they'll kill me. Or worse… he'll be there. Always taunting me. As the last noble-blooded Saiyan alive, it's my responsibility to stay strong. To uphold our pride. To maintain our honour. It's what you want of me… father.' The boy looked up, as if expecting the king to be there, giving a small nod of approval as he always had.

He would find a way to bring back the honour of the Saiyans, to bring their name back to its former glory… and to remove Frieza from the universe like the plague he was.

* * *

Borage was not a Saiyan one would want to upset on the best of days. The man was a renowned fighter; his status somewhat legendary thanks to his many great battles and was one of King Vegeta's top generals, having been decorated many times over throughout his illustrious carrier. But this of course meant nothing to him. He could see plain and clear King Vegeta was a coward, a man who had given into Frieza's desires long ago. Hell, he himself could have done a better job of being king! The only reason he was reluctant to challenge the Saiyan ruler was that Borage knew once he won, there would be a never-ending line of fighters ready to challenge the slightly aged Saiyan.

"Sir, we're now entering territory highly packed with Frieza's army. I'm a tad excited sir," Bok admitted with a smirk, alerting his spiky-haired leader. "Orders?"

"Hmm… maintain course for now," the muscular Saiyan said as he scratched his short, black beard in thought before adding. "Try and keep the pods away from any sensors. Choy, take the lead. You're the better pilot."

"Understood sir," Bok's brother answered simply and moved his pod in front of his comrades'.

Borage's three-man squad was smaller than most other Saiyan teams but they were also far more efficient. Unlike most other squad leaders who saw the members of their group as somewhat equals, acting as if rank didn't matter and only having a good time did, the general clung to the older Saiyan ways. Fighting with enemies for fun was a privilege that was earned, not simply handed out. Borage was sure to whip the softer notions out of any members that fell into his hands, making sure the youngsters understood they were on a mission, and that their opponents were warriors too and not playthings for amusement.

Thus he detested Frieza for bringing this new attitude into their ranks. True, Saiyans did fight for enjoyment, but also for honour and glory. Battle, among Saiyans at last, was now a sport. A pass time even. As far as Borage saw it, his race had become weak, perhaps not in power but in spirit. He hated Frieza for causing that, and that reason alone was enough to make the man's blood boil at the mere thought of the traitorous snake.

Thus he had seen this day coming.

His group being so prestigious, assassins were quickly dispatched to kill them while they were away on mission. Although they approached as if friendly, the Saiyans quickly saw through their ruse and were swift to catch them by surprise and interrogate them. Borage was only able to find out however that Planet Vegeta would be attacked by Frieza's forces, not that it had been destroyed by the demon himself. Finding their communications jammed and having destroyed those of their now dead prisoners in the scuffle, the trio headed off to their home hoping to warn their king before it was too late.

Little did they know it already was…

* * *

To Amaranth's left was Kale, eleven years of age and bearing the weight of his spiky mane that stretched below his shoulders but allowed for a clear view of his widow's peak. The boy wore Type-T Armour with a black chest plate, the protective gear gaining its namesake from the T-shape that came as a result of the elongated shoulder pads and crotch pad. Beneath the armour was a black bodysuit that cut off at same length as his brown armour pads, his feet covered with black boots. A green scouter rested on his right ear.

To Amaranth's right was Cress, a male also eleven years of age whose head was topped off by spiky brown hair that seemed to defy gravity and stand on edge, despite the fact that he used no gel. The boy was adorned with a light blue body suit, which covered his arms and legs with white gloves and boots over his hands and feet. Cress wore Type-T3 Armour, the chest plate white in colour and the protective gear only having one brown protective pad on the left shoulder. A red scouter rested on his left ear.

The two boys disliked each other to say the least, and for unknown reasons. A rivalry simply seemed to have sparked the instant they saw each other five years ago. Even their genetics and tastes in clothing had seemed to grow in two separate arcs just to spite the other. The only similarity between the two boys was their age, body type and height.

Scratch that. Another connection between the duo were the angry scowls they directed at their caretaker who shot her own glare right back at them with vigor.

"I'm getting really tired of this little spat between you two ya know?" Amaranth said cracking her knuckles and suddenly diverting from revealing the bad news to give the boys a proper lesson. She was sick and tired of having to separate the two.

"He started it!" the children said in unison, pointing at each other in denial, not really even remembering who or what had sparked the feud. "Hey! Stop that!" Cress and Kale once again spoke simultaneously, now each lifting their left fists with rage before being abruptly jerked upwards once more by Amaranth and having their skulls meet with a sickening thwack.

The boys were then thrown a few meters away by the female Saiyan and landing with several hard bumps on Planet Green's surface. Slowly, Cress and Kale lifted their torsos off the dirt, clutching their heads in pain as Amaranth dusted off her hands while saying, "I believe I wasn't very clear before about the 'no more fighting' rule. But I'm pretty sure I am now, right?" Receiving only groans as an answer, Amaranth gave a swift nod before turning around and speaking once more, although this time with a sullen voice. "Now… for the bad news…"

Taking in a deep breath the two boys took interest, their 'leader' never having put on this kind of emotional display before. The woman however kept a cool head and simply stated the facts. "Fasha and Tora… there's a really good chance they're dead. Frieza has betrayed us and put a bounty out for every Saiyan alive. We're pretty much dead meat right now." Amaranth waited a short few moments before making out the distinct sounds of sniffling behind her. Turning around, she found Cress merely looking off into the distance and Kale with his hands balled up into fists.

"You're… you're lying! It's all a stupid joke! My mom is alive!" Kale declared, sprinting towards Amaranth and trying to hit her anywhere he could only for all his punches and kicks to be blocked with little effort on Amaranth's part. Though the boy spoke with anger and rage, the female Saiyan could clearly make out the tears falling from his eyes.

"D-don't be such a baby… people die a-all the time… its nothing to get so upset over…" Cress said determinedly as he kept his body turned away but one could plainly hear his words were blubbered and muddled, an obvious sign of crying.

After a few moments of silence from the eldest Saiyan, Amaranth decided that enough was enough and this display of weakness was unbecoming of a Saiyan, even of their age. Finally returning one of Kale's punches, the young Saiyan was flung into the back of an unsuspecting Cress, the two boys once again bashing into each other for a third time that day by their angered custodian.

"Alright that's enough! Both of you! How do you think your parents would feel if they saw you balling over them? They died in battle, an honour all Saiyans hope to end their days with. So get over yourselves and focus on getting to see tomorrow!" The teen's speech seemed to come from nowhere as far as she knew. Perhaps she wasn't happy with the status quo of their culture and a few rules that went along with it, but it seemed she held a hidden respect for it.

Although the speech was indeed thought provoking, Cress and Kale still struggled to hold the tears back but it seemed they were at least trying now which was good enough for the moment Amaranth decided. It was only a few short seconds later however before Cress asked a rather vague question.

"So *sniff* what do we do now?" the spiky-haired boy inquired, looking up at his superior.

"We're going to Planet Vegeta. I'm certain King Vegeta has already heard about this and is probably trying to get everyone together for a final battle with Frieza… I just hope that there's enough of us left…" Amaranth stated rather morbidly before deciding to make sure her charges' spirits were kept high with the prospect of battle. "So in other words, get ready for war boys."

* * *

Planet Green did not only get its name from its once lush wilderness and environments but also from its inhabitants, all having dark green, smooth skin and three grey horns on their heads, each horn bigger than the last as they were positioned going upwards on the forehead and cranium. At least that was the case for most survivors, some having their horns damaged or broken off in some way.

The few remaining survivors were huddled closely in metal slave carts, those still conscious silently praying that whatever being they were sold to was benevolent and merciful… that was of course if they weren't simply going to be executed on the spot due to some last minute change in plans.

Each cart was stuffy and cramped, people barely being able to move and some even struggling to breathe from being at the bottom of the cage and having a mound of individuals resting atop their bodies. In the centre of one of these mounds was a single boy in his late teens. This boy, no this warrior, seethed with rage inside of his prison. His family, his friends, everyone he knew were all wiped out! And now his people were being treated like livestock.

His race had been one of proud warriors, the planet's leaders saying that their top soldiers were unmatched in the galaxy! And who could doubt such a claim after having beaten back so many planetary invaders time and time again? At first many agreed with the Head Council's decision to not sell their home world to Frieza and his goons, knowing the tyrant would no doubt ravage the peaceful lands or dump some foreign species on the planet so that they could steal its precious resources. Over time however, with the constant battles to maintain ownership of the planet and the countless losses as a result, some began to doubt the planet was worth it and sought to simply give in.

They should have it seemed. Many thought the four opponents who had landed several days ago were simply another few mercenaries trying to earn a quick buck but had no idea what was in store for them. The first invader fell easily enough from a sneak attack and all that was left was a woman and two young children. The people believed they were in no danger whatsoever.

Two days. In two days their once vibrant world had been turned to a lifeless corpse of a planet, its soil now yellow and its atmosphere filled with red smoke that rose from the planet's unique, now burning, foliage. These were no warriors, not even 'demons' was an evil enough term to describe them. They were Saiyans.

Monsters from the darkest pits of Hades with the power to level mountains and with ferocity in battle that would frighten even the bravest of men. They were wolves come to destroy and wreak havoc on all that lay in their path be it man, woman or child. They knew no mercy and they relished in pain of others. As for as the survivors of the massacre were concerned, they were death incarnate.

"Saiyans…" the teen hissed to himself in silence. "All of them… I will kill all of them… even if I have to hunt them down till the end of time!" The boy's parents were of the first to fall that fateful day, having been among the planet's warriors and high in rank. None of his brothers or sisters, whether they were younger or older, had been spared either. He had watched them die one by one until he himself overcame his fear of these creatures and attacked, hoping to simply die meet them in the next world. Everything had gone dark as expected, but instead of finding himself in eternal peace, he awoke stuffed between his remaining brethren, the boy's anger having reached a new peak after being denied even the simple, sweet release of death.

This boy's name was Falu, and he would have his revenge.

Suddenly hearing the sound of what seemed to be the fiddling of a lock, Falu was surprised when he and those inside the cart suddenly fell forward in a humungous pile, the boy ending up on the top with a new view of the outside world and coming face to face with one of the Saiyans: a small boy with long hair and a green scouter on his right ear.

It seemed as though they would be executed after all.

Falu and Kale met eyes for what seemed like an eternity, the teen eyeing the Saiyan's armour as he in turn eyed Falu's… well just the native in general, not having really looked over his targets as he slaughtered them.

The residents of Planet Green were all of typical human size and body shape, most being rather fit due to being a warrior race themselves. All wore the same clothing as well it seemed, the all white garbs consisting a baggy pair of pants and a sleeveless shirt with their feet covered by grey boots.

After hearing the faint sound of more lock fiddling, Falu turned his attention to the other slave carts finding the two other Saiyans also unlocking cages, only to start seemingly explain something to their now freed prisoners. Suddenly hearing Kale speak, the teen turned his attention back to the boy suddenly and finding him now addressing everyone in the pile.

"You're all free. We don't work for Frieza anymore and we figured letting you all go would really get on his nerves." The boy spoke with a neutral tone, not once smiling or seeming sincere in any way. "If you have some sort of spaceship, I suggest getting on it and leaving. There'll probably be someone here to finish what we started if we fail."

Turning around Kale didn't bother explain what he meant by the last statement, nor did anyone ask. The people of Planet Green began to silently cry tears of joy, now freed and possibly able to see tomorrow after all! They would be no slaves or victims on death row, but the first of a new people to seek out a new home and set up principles of peace and acceptance, so as to avoid a future like this occurring once more.

That was what most thought at least. But Falu had now reached a point in rage where his fists were clenched so hard, black blood was drawn from the resulting palm wounds. His fangs were revealed for the entire world to see and his power was fluctuating rapidly. It was not the nonchalant attitude with which the Saiyan had spoken, nor was it the claim that their freedom was a trivial matter to merely upset someone else, it was those eyes. Those saddened eyes.

They contained the signs of someone who had just suffered a great loss. Someone who had lost a person dear to them… this was unacceptable! How dare they murder and rampage throughout the galaxy and then feel as though they had the _right_ to experience pain or sadness! If it took him a few moments or if it took him ten thousand years, Falu would have his revenge, even if he had to follow them into the depths of hell itself, he would spill their blood across the entire known universe…

"Set course for Planet Vegeta and stay close to me. And if I hear you two fighting again, I'll give you both such a beating when we land, you'll be lucky to walk, let alone fight with us. Am I clear?" Amaranth received only two disheartened nods from her charges as they entered their pods and she hers, the coordinates only taking a few moments to be set before they all blasted off towards their home.

"Quickly everyone, we must get to the capital to gather supplies and get to the ship!" an elder among the survivors yelled and the people slowly filtering out as they headed towards what was left of their once glorious leading city, following the old man's orders as his blue clothing identified him as a being of great wisdom.

The elder himself was about to leave as well before he spied Falu merely standing, his back to the fleeing survivors and his eyes set on the pod of the green soldier his people had killed. Piecing two and two together quickly the elder neared Falu, placed his hand upon the boys shoulder and said in a saddened tone, "Please my son, you are one of the last few of our people who is truly strong. We need you to protect us. If you go now, you would not only leave us nearly defenceless but you would also be going against all that we have ever taught: we fight to protect, never to hurt. What would your parents think if you went against their teachings?"

Mulling over the words of the wise man behind him, Falu shifted his view to that of the Saiyan pods currently leaving his planet's now scarlet atmosphere. Coming to a decision, the boy responded, "The people are all warriors in some form or another, they will survive without me. As for my parents…" Falu turned to face the elderly man, the fighter's face one of conviction. "No, as for my family, they all died for an honourable cause but in a horrible slaughter, not a battle. I know that they won't rest easily until I have done to those monsters what they did to my family."

Ripping his shoulder away from the blue clad man, Falu stomped over to the attack pod as the elder sighed and turned around, knowing the boy could not be convinced. Taking flight so as to catch up to his kin, who were by now far ahead, the old man gave one last, longing look towards the boy, hoping that he would somehow see the insanity in his mission and join his people once more.

Sitting down in the single, odd chair that made up a large portion of the inside of the attack pod, Falu began to randomly press buttons and verbally commanding the machine to follow the Saiyans whom had just left as he did so. Eventually, the pod's computer responded in a nasally female voice: "Destination set: Planet Arcos. Arrival Time: 233 planetary rotations."

Assuming that was the destination the Saiyans were going to as well the teen sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, unknowingly having stepped out of the frying pan, and into the sun.

* * *

**A/N: I had originally planned to make this chapter far longer, but here feels like a good Segway for the next one… whenever that's supposed to come out :P**

**Till next time, thanks for reading and don't forget to review!**


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